there is a wasp that hunts spiders paralyzes them with a sting drags them to her den lays an egg and buries them alive
the egg become a larvae that is charming in her innocence she needs care protection provision so the spider offers its abdomen and lets her eat organs one by one
appendix stomach intestine bladder saving the heart and lungs for last
a talking meal is awkward but the spider has no defense against the mysterious disarming quality of new life
when the wasp is finished she leaves independent strong and the spider is alone a feeble shell buried in darkness
.
there is an egg sac inside me i have not found it yet
the spiders whisper the wasps’ name call her a monster
i am silent my heartbeat is muffled im too afraid to look and see
they hatch it will be too late i already dont want to be left alone
i found a spider in my diary altering memories i smashed it then drew a flower around the black smudge in mourning
i begin to write and they crawl down my arm controlling the loops my pencil make now i drop the pencil when they make the pilgrimage from nose to hand
my mouth has already been sewn shut my tear ducts blocked the bonds attaching me to the bed gold in the early sun light are harder to break every morning
i cannot walk without running into the golden gossamer potential shackles when i make it to the door i open it
the golden boy broken in the night no one know what happened
his parents had dug a grave had already picked up orchids his favorite flower because of the elegance
what they did not know was the boy had answered orchids on a poetic whim three years ago and felt like he could not say daisies now in the present because daisies didnt have to preen to be beautiful
while his parents shoveled his grandma from traditional japan snuck in and gathered his pieces took him to an old goldsmith friend of hers who had filled her armoire with shattered china
with love she put him back together piece by careful piece and her friend stuck him together with powdered gold and glue
the golden boy shines now i watch him from the corner of my eye when our paths cross
his beauty took too much effort for him to be a daisy but his as mindless of it as a daisy would be
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